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More than a few of the blogs on my google reader tonight have stories about preemies that are, in turn, inspiring, touching, and hopeful. So even though I’ve not experienced the exquisite pain of having a premature child, I’d like to write about what I know.

I know that some of the most beautiful children I have met started their lives too early.

I know that parents of preemies have a strength I certainly will never possess.

I know that the fear, the guilt, the anger, the despair about those children will never fully go away.

I know that there is an abhorrent amount of misinformation about prematurity in the world – because I used to be one of those uneducated ones, the ones with babies that were right on time and healthy.

I know that the challenges preemies face will only give them grace and power.

I know, more than ever, that there is a higher power.

I know one preemie who possesses magical fertility powers. 🙂

I know that my world is richer and more meaningful because of the preemies in it.

To all of you who started as preemies, are moms and dads of preemies, or even have been the smallest part of a preemie’s life, you have my respect, love, and admiration tonight and always.

Jesse and I have this running joke about our hips going out. For some reason we think it’s funny to include the words “Pa” and “Ma” when we have this conversation. It’s a dialogue that generally occurs after a) a workout; b) sex; c) sitting on the couch criss-cross-applesauce too long. I’m pleased to announce that my hips hurt today because of d) all of the above.

You’ve probably noticed me bitching about my weight lately. I finally reached the breaking point last weekend when I attended the State Cross Country Meet and realized I haven’t been able to run like that in over a year. Ridiculous. Depressing. So, instead of coming home and drinking my sorrows away (which I did, but I did more), I went to buy a pair of new running shoes. They weren’t anything I could remotely afford right now, but I knew I needed them. I needed a reason to get back on the road treadmill.

And I did. I worked out five days this week. I did NOT drink for two nights, and the three nights I did, I had one glass of wine. I slept like the dead. I felt good about life. I took a cheat day yesterday and the only thing that really sent me over the top was the vodka (I have yet to figure out how to cut out the “it’s the weekend and I’m celebrating” drinking). I know these first few weeks will be the hardest – doesn’t it take 21 days to create a new habit? But I have to do SOMEthing. I have to take back control in at least one part of my life.

My goal? To lose 15 pounds by January 31. I know it’s almost impossible, with the holidays coming up, but I have to go big or go home. It’s only a pound and a half a week. I have to do this. I have to be healthy. I have to love myself again.

But to be fair…I love…
*That my husband and I got in a ridiculously stupid fight last night but right now he’s rubbing my feet.
*Brand new running shoes like the ones I bought today – even though I canNOT afford them, I need them to avoid another ridiculously stupid fight.
*Planning our stu co trip to Disney World in March.
*Ryan’s 15 minute showers to “get warm”

Last night, John Ondrasik (Five for Fighting) said something that really stuck with me. He was telling a story about how he wrote one of his songs and he said, “There’s probably a song in this room right now, if you just listen.”

I love that word listen. No one (especially me) does it enough. There are uniquely precious stories in the world that never get heard. Even though we wax poetic about “getting everyone’s voice in the room”, people don’t listen.

I’ve decided to start listening. I feel the desire and the need to be writing something of consequence, but I’m stuck. I think I will start over by listening.

and I haven’t. Sorry. We’ve entered the dead time of the year. Kids are sick of school. Teachers are sick of school. We haven’t had a day off – technically – since Labor Day. Thanksgiving feels about a light year away.

So imagine my joy at one just one, but TWO snow days last week. Yep, we were victimized by the first snow of the season. We ended up with close to 20 inches in our backyard and it was gorgeous. Cold, beautiful, pure whiteness. And now in true Colorado fashion, it’s gone. It was in the 60s yesterday. But I digress…

As a bullet point review (and as proof that we really do actually leave the house once in a while):
*I went to see Rob Thomas and reinforced my commitment to the fact that if the man showed up on my doorstep, I would go anywhere with him. My good God Lord…I only get this excited (okay, not quite) for one other man in my life.
*The snow days resulted in the cancellation of two events, so that was a nice break, but now our student council room is overflowing with leftover candy – not good when you realize you are literally (yes, my pants have gotten tighter the past two weeks) getting fatter by the day.
*We went to my mother-in-law’s house on Friday. Nothing to report. We then went to Megan’s first volleyball game on Saturday. Not much to report – they’re not that good, and the volleyball coach in me was SCREAMING, but I said nothing and cheered for my daughter. I won’t be that parent, but apparently her father will be. :::insert annoyed eye roll here::: She doesn’t need weights. She’s 12 – even joking about her body at this point is beyond stupid, you idiot.
*Halloween. Ahhh…it was okay. We had a ton of kids, which was fun. Then we watched videos of infant-sized Ryan. Oh, man. It amazes me to look back and realize that she’s been this way – this funny, spirited, can’t-not-look-at-herself-in-any-reflective-surface – since she was born, even before she was born.

But then in true fashion I realized that I SHOULD be about to have a baby. Frickin’ awesome. I try hard not to go there, but it’s a challenge. I try hard not to care, but it’s torture. I try hard to move past it, but it’s almost impossible. I feel like just one loss would have been doable – I mean, just one is…just one. So I’m trying to focus on the two children I DO have, but even that makes me crazy. Exhibit A: “I already have two kids. I ALREADY HAVE TWO KIDS. So why the HELL can’t I seem to have another one?” Exhibit B: when people on the online community to which I am addicted announce their pregnancies or births, I have to try VERY hard to post something nice. (sorry to those of you who are here – it’s not you, I promise) Exhibit C: pregnant people are everywhere. Seriously. There was even one in the SRO section of Five for Fighting last night. Gah.

Speaking of which – if you ever get the chance to go to a show at the Soiled Dove Underground in Denver, DO IT. Amazing venue.

Okay, I’m off to enjoy my new Snuggie. Yep. I bought one. It’s green. And now I won’t be cold when I type, so maybe I’ll type more.